An unworthy Deacon, named for the brother of God: James, striving to "work out his salvation with fear and trembling" within the Tradition (paradosis) of the Eastern Orthodox Faith. It is a strange and marvelous journey, and I am accompanied by the fourfold fruit of my fecundity. My wife, the Matushka or Diaconissa Sophia, is my beloved partner in the pursuit of Theosis, and she ranks me in every way.
Now I normally try and refrain from making fun of city folk, but having toured the Olympic Sculpture Park I find it to be generally a silly waste of space. Of course, I've never been one to "get" modern art, but come on? Giant eyeballs, erasers, and metal trees?!? Yeah yeah, I know...I'm just a dumb redneck.
You know, where I come from we have REAL trees. And it's about time to get back to em...
I'm lookin' down the barrel of Friday night Ridin' on a river of freeway lights Goodbye city I'm country bound 'Til Monday rolls around
Gonna kick off my shoes And run in bare feet Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet Goin' back to the well gonna visit old friends And feed my soul where the blacktop ends
I'm afraid the "redneck" that he inherited from his Kentucky hillbilly kinfolk(that are still around today as cousins, aunts and uncles) surfaced the day we signed the papers and it became quite prominent.
Actually it's been a rather long conversion process. I can trace its beginnings (aside from the slavic hillbilly genetics) to my move out of the borg collective to washington (wink wink)
I've never understood people who CHOOSE to live downtown...it's as baffling to me as I suppose my suburban life (at the time) was/is to them.
Nowadays I think dowtown folk are flat out crazy and dangerous, whereas it's suburban folk I don't "get" anymore. I know I know...."You do yer thing and I'll do mine."
I've always been a country boy at heart I reckon...just needed a good wife to bring it back out of me. Don't let her fool you none neither...she's as much to blame as my genetics.
I grew up in Ohio and Kentucky (till I was abducted to California in the 4th grade) running through woods, chasing forest critters, fishin in little cricks and making forts in trees. It feels good to give that gift to my kids now...and they are EATING it up.
convertitis? Sure...and that there's my testimony brother. I suppose it ain't for everybody - clearly - but, for me...well, I joyfully "feed my soul, where the green grass grows!"
Concrete and Stainless Steel Trees?!?!?! I declare! What in 'tarnation fer?!?
Is this the young man who at the ripe old age of 9 , had to be harrased by his mother to give the poor dog, Sunshine, fresh water and food? Oh and by the way, did you really feed him every time you were forced?